But when violence strikes in real life, it is chaotic and often muffled.

That's the scene that
unfolded early Friday morning, shortly after midnight, when a gunman
opened fire at a movie theater in Aurora, Colorado, during a screening
of the new Batman sequel.

Shooting witness thought attack was joke

In the few of minutes it
took the gunman to unload hundreds of rounds, according to police
estimates, nearly everyone inside Theater No. 9 would make a life or
death decision -- sometimes with terrifying results.

The theaters of the
Century 16 multiplex were filled with hard-core fans, many of whom
bought tickets weeks earlier for the 12:05 a.m. premiere of "The Dark
Knight Rises." Many wore costumes that emulated their favorite
characters in the DC Comics franchise.

In the front of the
theater, Seeger and a friend took seats in the second row, close to the
screen. Emma Goose, 19, and her friends arrived late and were forced to
take separate sets close to the front, also near the screen.

The gunman was there, too. He bought a ticket at the door and took a seat near the emergency exit door, according to police.

The movie was in its
first minutes and most of the movie-goers didn't appear to notice the
exit door open and then only partially close.

Authorities believe it
was then that the gunman snuck out to his car parked in the rear of the
theater to pick up weapons and don a gas mask and tactical gear,
including a ballistic helmet and protective gear for his legs, throat
and groin.

It was shortly after
12:35 a.m. when Seeger first saw the man wearing a gas mask and toting
weapons enter the theater through the emergency exit door.

He looked like "a SWAT man," decked out head-to-toe in black, Seeger thought.

It must be part of the
show, she reasoned, an added attraction on the opening night of one of
the most highly anticipated movies of the year.

Goose thought the same thing.

In one hand, the man held a hissing canister, they said. In the other, a rifle.

Seeger watched him as he lobbed the canister into the audience. It made a loud popping sound, witnesses say.

He then pointed the rifle toward the ceiling, firing several rounds.

In that moment, Seeger knew it was not an act. So, too, did Goose.

"Oh my God, this is really happening," Goose thought, as she dove for the floor.

Then the man lowered what is now believed to be a semi-automatic rifle, pointing it at Seeger as she stood up.

Panic was setting in as a
realization swept through the theater that the gunman was real -- and
he was planning on killing people.

Whatever was in the canister that landed in the middle of the theater was beginning to burn the eyes of movie-goers.

Some in the theater thought it was a smoke-bomb, while others believed it was tear gas.

At first, Seeger didn't know what to do. The gunman was three feet away pointing a gun at her face.

There wasn't time to make a reasoned decision. You either live or die, she told herself.

Seeger dove into the row, pushing her body underneath the seats next to her friend as she heard gunshots around her.

She quietly tried to
calm her friend and those around her as hot shell casings bounced on the
floor and hit her in the face, burning her forehead.

In a nearby row, Goose
was on the ground, using the seats for cover, when she realized she had
to move if she was going to survive.

"We started pushing each other and crawling over each other," she said.

The first 911 calls came
into the Aurora Police Department at about 12:39 a.m. They were
followed by dozens, perhaps hundreds more.

The voice of a
dispatcher crackled over the radio to police units: "They're saying
someone is shooting in the auditorium." Moments later, she added: "There
is at least one person shot, but they're saying there's hundreds of
people just running around."

People were pushing and shoving one another to try to get out of the tight rows of seats and down the aisles to safety.

Goose peered over the row of seats toward the gunman, who was now making his way toward the steps of the stadium-like seating.

The gunman, witnesses
would say later, walked slowly as he randomly fired at people. He shot
at those who stood up and tried to flee, some said. He shot at people as
they sat in their seat, said others.

Outside, by 12:42 a.m.,
police officers were surrounding the multiplex and other officers were
making their way toward the theater where one smelled what he described
over the radio as pepper spray.

"Get us some damn gas masks for Theater 9, we can't get in," one of the officers said.

Inside the theater, Seeger lay on the floor and played dead.

In a nearby row, Goose
was trying to figure out how to get out. People were still trying to
flee, and the gunman was still shooting.

In the dark, with the
gunman moving toward the back of the theater, Goose crawled across the
aisle -- to another row of seats near the exit. It was the same place a
friend of hers was forced to sit when they couldn't find seats together.

But as soon as she
cleared the aisle, she stumbled onto a man in the row who had been shot
in the head. "He was grazed but bleeding a lot," she said.

Goose helped the wounded
man out of the theater, while Seeger picked herself up off the floor
and surveyed the carnage. There were bodies in the aisle, and people
slumped over in seats who at first glance appeared to be dead.

Nearby, she thought
heard a man "mumbling, still alive." She checked his pulse, her training
as an emergency medical technician kicking in.

He was alive, but barely.

Her friend begged her, even screamed at her to leave the theater. But Seeger could not do it. Not yet.

Seeger grabbed the man under his arms and started to try to drag him out of the row of seats, toward the exit.

Suddenly, there was screaming. The gunman, moviegoers said, had returned.

About Me

Actor, Casting Director, Director, Broadcaster, Writer, Singer, Artistic
Director, Dramatur, Producer, Professor, Coach, Husband, Grandfather, Marketing
Professional and life long student Art Lynch joined the staff of John Robert
Powers in 1999. Lynch is also an adjunct professor at the Community College of
Southern Nevada, the Morning Edition Weekend Host for Nevada Public Radio and
one of 67 individuals who represent 126,000 actors as a member of the Board of
Directors of the Screen Actors Guild. He is the past president of the Nevada
Branch of the Screen Actors Guild and of the Professional Audio/Visual Communications
Association. A resident of Nevada since 1984, Lynch has an MA in Communications
from UNLV and a BA in Theater, Speech and Mass Communications from the
University of Illinois, Chicago. He is currently pursuing post-graduate studies
in theater, education and the entertainment industry. Art Lynch studied and
practiced the craft of acting in Chicago and California before settling in
Nevada. With his wife Laura, Art owned and operated a successful marketing
company with national clientele. Art was personally responsible for casting and
directing over 1,000 commercials and industrials, as well as assisting on film
and television projects in many ways. His career also includes earning awards
as a wire service, magazine and broadcast journalist. He is most proud,
however, of his daughters. Ann is a PhD in neuroscience and Beth is the proud
mother of his grandchildren, Evan and Elijah.

Short Film Festival

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